Friday, October 28, 2011

Since pretty much all three of my readers know my husband, they know that he worships the ground I walk on. While simultaneously plotting devious ways of ascending to the post of ultimate commander of the universe. Of course, he's very brilliant so plotting doesn't take up much mental capacity, so the balance of his time is spent just fostering a environment of weird. In which I am also living.

However, the one constant in my universe is that boobies trump all and as a result I don't get told no. Ever.

Oh, I get asked nicely to wait on some things. I am involved in discussions where my argument doesn't end up being chosen as the winner. But the flat-out "no"? Just doesn't happen.

Until Wednesday. When I was unceremoniously told that NO we could not have pancakes for dinner, because he really wanted grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

No dialogue. No pros and cons. Just no.

I know this is just the beginning. He'll use no on other occasions I'm sure. And then where will it end? No place good, that's for sure.

I'm just going to have to get a boob augment. Hopefully that will weight things in my favor again (get it?).

ETA: I did get pancakes the next day. So he's not a total monster. But really! Waiting!!!

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

I dabble in crafts. Which is to say, I'd love to spend a lot more time doing them but I think beads, threads, cross-stitch patterns, jewelry findings, glue gun, and yarn would probably be obvious at work. As being not work-related.

I recently took a glass fusion class and it was a lot of fun (of course, part of that was likely the company of my galpal and also the fact that I took the afternoon off work!). The pieces came out pretty good for a first try and I thought I'd blog-brag. (Plus I wanted to write something today but I'm brain dead and this is mostly pictures. SCORE!)

Swirled dish

Dragonfly Suncatcher

Pendant

There's another pendant piece but I cannot for the life of me get a decent picture of it. Will probably have to string it and wear it to have a picture.

I'm really pleased with the way they turned out. Now we just need to move so I can be closer to the studio and make things more often. Plus, they have a free-martini-and-play-with-glass-evening every week. What's not to like?

Saturday, October 22, 2011

The time to consider the effects of dropping Alka Seltzer cold medicine tabs into a cup of carbonated lemon water was probably before actually doing it. Fortunately for me, it appears that I am once again a mistress at science (!), for the carbonation did not exponentially increase (all over my desk).

Speaking of Science, it has come to my attention that I've retained just enough information from my high school Science classes to be able to be incorrect in any given situation. This is the value of education, folks.

In May I switched jobs at my workplace, primarily in order to be able to work at the field office closer to my home, rather than the corporate office a fair distance away. (It's still 40 miles' drive but at least I can commute with Mr. Eggshells now.) As a result, this is the first year in the last four that I haven't been involved in 4th quarter/year end accounting activities at my workplace.

I have to admit it's a little confusing to be able to take time off at the end of the month if I'd like, or even take time off anywhere in the fourth quarter. But what's really perplexing is my complete inability to figure out what part of the month I'm in.

Not that it matters...I don't need to know that anymore. Which is a concept even harder to wrap my head around (ooh, see I have layers!).

This morning I'm clipping coupons and thinking about time. Mr. Eggshells and I have just come out of a very busy social month (which for us cave-troll types essentially means more than one activity). This week alone we had four events! We promised ourselves a day at home today and the freedom to just do whatever takes our fancy. Now I'm thinking about the day ahead and wondering not how to fill it, but how I can get everything done that I want. This falls into a familiar theme for me...wanting to know everything and do everything. Picking and choosing a specific path is really not my forte. (Which is a really nice way of saying I suspect that I have adult ADHD, except I'm rarely acting like an adult so I'm not sure if that's not a lie. Sorry.)

Of course, this is the cry of anyone working full-time (and I suspect, even part-time but since I've never really dabbled in that I cannot say for sure). Unless of course your job is tester of kiddie ball-rooms or silly string that is. Then your day is likely really cool, and possibly messy.

What this really boils down to is that all those adults who said that time would go by really quickly when you're past your youth were right. Which kinda sucks. Because now I'm that adult.

I said nothing about being responsible in any of the above. I win!

ETA: OMG I used you're and your in the same sentence! Correctly! (Unlike earlier this week when I didn't. *facepalm*)

Friday, October 14, 2011

My mobile phone was gasping its last digital bytes on Monday. It had started the death throes on the weekend, randomly changing my theme, tones, and dramatically shutting itself off during my conversations. Which is different from the usual non-dramatically shutting itself off during my conversations...I can't explain how, but trust me, there's a difference. By Monday morning, pressing the "Menu" button resulted in exactly...nothing. Obviously destined to be a paperweight, it was time to look at something new.

Then came the decision-making...was it time for a Smartphone? We'd been oddly resistant to getting those. Maybe it's because neither of us lives by our phone, and the most common usage we had was talking to each other during the long commutes. Since we can do that phoneless now, it's really just for emergencies and the random calls/chats from friends. We barely text and even the flip phones we've been using had music capability that we just didn't use.

The pro side of the decision included having access to maps/GPS while out and about and the occasional advantage of checking prices on the interwebs.

The clincher was that the iPhone 4S was being released on Friday (today) and the iPhone 3G was free. SOLD! We trundled off to the local AT&T Store

At this point I must divulge that something odd happens to us every time we are in this particular store. I'm not sure if it's because it's usually after a long day of work, or if it's just the ambiance of a lot of townsfolk amidst the cornucopia of technology. Whatever the case, we run the schtick very well, the banter flowing freely between us and the hapless salesperson struggling to either keep us in line or not pee him/herself from laughter (usually the latter).

It started when he asked how I used my phone. Somehow my answer of "to make phone calls" was shocking in this modern day and age, because I was then grilled as to whether or not I listened to music (no), emailed (no), surfed the web (no), yadda yadda. I then confessed that while I could take pictures, I couldn't find them afterward and that I had call waiting but could never figure out how to take an incoming call while on another one. Pretty much what I could do was dial the phone, hang it up and play with the volume.

He then asked the most embarrassing question ever. "What do you do for work?" (It didn't help that Mr. Eggshells started laughing at the question...he knew what was coming.)

Here was where I had to admit that I worked as a Project Coordinator. For a company that worked almost exclusively with wireless phone carriers. For several years now. Which was preceded by almost fifteen years working in the wireline (regular telephone) industry.

None of this means I would necessarily know how to operate a phone, but honestly...being in the industry for 20 years, and having opposable thumbs, should at least provide the understanding of the basics.

All good salespeople need to school their responses so as not to offend potential sales. This situation was no different, since he couldn't have any idea how self-deprecating I am or that I don't offer information about myself that could be used to mock me without being prepared for the mock. He did very well with not responding to that.

But then, I wasn't quite finished.

"I'm also the IT Help Desk."

He couldn't manage to keep the look of incredulity off his face. I figured in for a penny, in for a pound. "I'm one of the three most technical people in my company. I can fix computers and troubleshoot network issues. I am an expert in Microsoft Office and an above-average user in most other software. I administrate the project database. But I cannot for the life of me work a mobile phone."

By now Mr. Eggshells had his hand over his mouth so he didn't scare anyone with his hooting. The sales guy had no idea how to respond to this, so I told him it's okay to laugh. Because it is - fortunately I don't feel the need to be defined by my ability to use a phone (thank goodness!).

Phone Bliss

So I am now the happy owner of an iPhone. I can find my photos, download apps, and make calls. I've already used the map to get us places and I don't have to think about any of it. Of course, I haven't figured out a few things, but that's what my husband the manual is for, right?

Which was maybe the problem all along. I have to know so much in so many other areas of my life, the phone was the straw that tipped the scales (ooh, look at that mixed metaphor there!).

Earlier this month I blogged about the car conversation with my husband, and alluded to the fact that it was only one of many. This morning's was rather amusing, and makes us sound kinda smart, so I thought I'd share.

Me: For the party tomorrow night, we only need to bring beer. And I want to bring a hostess gift, like flowers.

Him: Or a live skunk.

Me: No. I do shopping, you do logistics. I'm not shopping for a live skunk. Actually I think I might change shopping to procurement.

Him: So I'd have to fill out forms in triplicate...I'd get a skunk from someone.

Me: No, all the forms come to me. They can be in duplicate, in tripulate. Wait, tripulate? Okay in whatever math levels we'll take them to. All mine.

Him: Capulet, Montague...

Me: Exactly. I'm just not procuring a live skunk. Or a dead one before you go there.

Him: What? Not a dead one either?

**********

In other randomness, yesterday one of my co-workers called me a Metal Goddess. As in Heavy Metal music. If my sister were still talking to me and heard this story, she'd laugh until she threw up.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

A few years ago, we had Mr. Eggshells' snowbird parents in the area for the summer. As they had picked up their tent stakes about 3 months after we married, and lived 8 hours away in the first place, we hadn't spent all that much time together prior to this.
Mr. Eggshells had grown up in a rural area, on ranch acreage that had once held livestock, and the nearest town populating at almost 3000 people. Conversely, I grew up in the multicultural, decidedly urban, and hugely populated Greater Vancouver area in Canada. Needless to say, we have slightly differing perspectives on life, and greatly different experiences with flora and fauna.

The parental units had been helping us with yard work (read: doing it for us), since we had crazy schedules and commutes. I was working from home on this beautiful sunny summer day and so the three of us had been chatting on and off as my day and theirs allowed. They had spent most of their day outside in the yard, coming in later as they'd finished working.

Around 5 pm I decided to put a load of laundry in the washer, which is located in the garage. Basket in arms, I descended the two steps into the garage. As I went to turn the corner to reach the laundry area, I froze at the sight in front of me...a giant humongous rat. Of course, I did the only reasonable thing, which was scream, drop the laundry and run into the house to call my husband. (Yes, folks, 40 years of women's liberation completely destroyed in one second by a rodent.)

While on the phone, hysterically telling my husband we have big, giant, mutant rats invading our home, I walk into our family room where the parents are relaxing. Hearing me, Dad leaps up to go investigate (note, also raised in a rural setting). Mr. Eggshells is still trying to calm me down and understand the gibberish while navigating the freeway, and he asks me to wait a moment while he gets the driving settled down. During this interval, Mom (note, also raised on a ranch) quietly asks me if I'm sure it's not a squirrel.

The question stops me dead, thoroughly indignant and I reply, "Of course not! I know the difference between a rat and a squirrel. Squirrels have bushy tails."

While she's laughing, I head back to the garage and resume my histrionics while watching Dad trying to find the offending creature. He's wielding a broom and poking into the dark recesses of every potential rodent hiding spot. My husband, not realizing what has gone before, now asks me if it wasn't a squirrel I saw.

"What is it with you people? No, it's not a squirrel. They have bushy tails. I know I wasn't raised on a farm but they have squirrels in the city. THIS IS NOT A SQUIRREL."

"Okay, okay. I'll pick up some D-Con on my way home. It'll be fine, I promise."

"I'm not doing laundry until that thing's gone!"

"It's okay, just let me get home. I'll take care of it."

At this point, Dad confirms that he can find nothing in the garage that shouldn't be there. Mr. Eggshells arrives home, and they do another search. By now, I'm sure they all think I've just imagined it, or that it somehow escaped.

About a week later I'm driving home and Mr. Eggshells calls me.

"I believe you."

"Excellent, do I get any context? Or is this just a general all-purpose belief?"

"I believe that you saw what you thought was a giant rat."

I can already feel the terror rising when I ask, "What I thought was a rat? What do you mean? What's going on?"

"It's okay I've taken care of it."

"TAKEN CARE OF WHAT?"

"What you saw was a juvenile 'possum."

"A WHAT? HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS? DID YOU SEE IT?"

At this point, I need to digress a little in the story and mention that we'd hosted the parents to a steak barbecue the weekend before. Unfortunately, our grill had run out of propane before the steaks were done. So we finished them in the oven, in our roasting pan. We'd left the pan to soak in the laundry tub and, like we often do, forgot that it was there.

"Well, yes. But I've totally taken care of it."

"You need to tell me NOW what's going on."

"Okay." Deep sigh. "I had to look it up on the web to be sure, but it looks like a juvenile possum. I found it in the roasting pan."

"The roasting pan? Oh, in the laundry tub?"

It's just waiting to get me.

"Yes, it was dead. I think it drowned."

Now I'm feeling ill, and kind of bad for the poor creature, but not enough to not be glad that it wasn't still roaming around my garage waiting to lunge at me.

"Okay. Well at least I wasn't seeing things. So you've gotten rid of the remains?"
"Yes. And the roasting pan. I considered just cleaning it up and not telling you but thought that might be bad."

"YES. Yes, that would be very bad. Good husband. Good good husband."

"Yes, I thought it was best."

"Thank you! Yes, that is definitely best. So that's a huge relief. No more animals that shouldn't be around here!"

The next day, the parents stopped by as we were on our way out - to get a new roasting pan.

"See? I TOLD you I wasn't seeing things. And that it wasn't a squirrel."

Dad got the last word...

"The rest of the possum family must be around your yard somewhere."

Mom starts laughing as I stare at him dumbfounded and Mr. tries to steer me away.

Since my job transfer back to my "old" office, Mr. Eggshells and I have been commuting together. Better for the environment, and some quality couple time. Although considering that for at least one half of those daily commutes, it's morning, I'm not so positive on my use of the word "quality" up there.

The Mr. and I have a fun dynamic overall...and we're both not morning people. Below is a conversation we actually had this morning, based on my best pre-coffee recollection. (Of course, it may also be an amalgam of several of these types of conversations, since they occur with alarming frequency.)

Names have not been changed, as there are really no innocents here to protect. Well, except me.

**********

*The Mr. stretches a hand over and pretends to cut off my left hand.*

Me: No, you're not allowed to amputate my hand.

Him: What? Since when?

Me: Since always. Not allowed.

Him: But it's a present. It's better to give than to receive.

Me: I would prefer candy or flowers over amputation.

Him: But amputation's on the list?

Me: Not really, but on that list, it's last.

Him: But it's in the top 5?

Me: No, we're not talking about everything, just those three items. And amputation's last.

Monday, October 3, 2011

With focus at a premium I was unwilling to pay this afternoon, I was taking a turn about the dance floor with an old partner, the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Much like a zombie craving brains, I was feeding the randomness of character creation with some good old-fashioned personality/character archetypes.

Really, I had you at zombie, didn't I?

My personality type is INFP, aka Idealist aka Healer, aka Actor (Um, what? That just seems way too extroverted but okay whatever, internet). All in all, the available definition is pretty spot on, including the parts about how I basically manage the world through intuitiveness and trying to maintain harmony. It also reminded me I was creative. (Okay, to be fair, I've had friends saying the same thing recently, but this is the internet....so therefore it must be true! ;) )

The issue I'm now facing, is that while my own personality type makes it easier for me to investigate and understand others', I'm not exactly sure how to make it translate into believable characterizations. It's also entirely possible I'm way overthinking this.

When I read back on my creative writing from years gone by, I'm always surprised at how together it seems...like I was present for the writing. I don't know if that makes sense, but I spend so much time now trying to focus, I have no true idea if what is being produced is even comprehensible, much less entertaining.

I did also learn today that my personality archetype's standard disorder is histrionics. Which is a word I've loved since a child...it just reminds me of dramatic tantrums. And almost (almost) makes me believe I'd be allowed to get away with that.